The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1887-02-03
For the FLoRIDIAN.l
PlCUS AURATUS.
THE GOLDEN WOODPECKER

In taking Canens for his BRIDE
For, with her beauty she'd voice
W orth more than all her charms beside
IL charmed alike man, bird and beast,
Aye, trees and stones! The mountain rills,
While list'ning to her music, ceased
Their headlong passage down the hills.
".
One fateful morning, cool and clear,
Ihe young king, joyous, fearing naught,
Went out TO hunt the boar aud deer
or coming evil he'd no thought.
His stecd they bring round to the gate,
lie mounts, turns gaiy to his queen
Farewell" she cries, >" Don't larry late !"
Ah, he no more by her is seen
He has his guards-the cavalcade
Rides gaily on with horn and hounds,
And draws tor game each dell and glade
All through the pleas mt hunting grounds.
All me! What chance brings Circe now
Fell sorc'ress-from her mountain home?
She means some mschief-that I'll VOW
Whenc er she thus so far doth roam!
She searches herbs for evil deeds
AND hears the horseman riding nigh
Within her robe she thrusts the weeds,
And stoops-the party to espy-
Herself being hidden by the brush
In front the Prince rides, gay and bright,
And sudden with tumultuous rush
Her feelings overpow'r her quite!
VII.
Her wits desert her with the fame
OF passion kindled in her breast,
And, were 1t not for very shame,
The youth at once she'd have addreSt.
But soon she summons to her aid
The dcv' 'lish arts at her command
And swift, through ticse, far Off are strayed
The kings devoted little band.
VIII
in, .bo
In my entertainments il there's power
I'll have this fair Prince in these arms
AYE, and within this very hour!'
This sad-bcfore the Princes eyes
She conjurcs up phantom shape
OF huge wild boar that quickly tries
Within thicket to escape.
TX
The Prince, to come up with the brute
lie thinks he sees for cover breaking,
Dismounts, to follow it on foot
His way through thorn and brier m liking
When 10 before him Circe stands,
In posture meant TO be entreating
With smile Oh lips, and Outstretched hands,
Such is Crce's ardent greeting!
With words too she her suit pursues,
Says great Apollo is her sire
How then can Picus her refuse?
Would he, a mortal, not desire
To wed with her-her power to share?
NO." prompt cries he. 1t cannot be-
"Dost know my queen, SO sweet and fair?
Could leave her to wed with thee?
She holds me captive by her grace,
"By her sweet voice, by her sweet song.
" By all he charms of form and face,
That to my peerless spouse belong!
~ care not who, nor whence, thou art,
81 pray the now to stand aside
/" And let me hence at once depart
I'll not be thine, whate'er betide!"
XII.
storm of rage, and hate and spite
Swept over Circe's quiv'ring frame
While with her wand upraised 10 strike,
Forth from her lips torrent came
OF words of wrath and direfu threat.
Her sudden love to hate was turned,
Such insult she could meier forget,
Fierce rage and shame within her burned
XIII.
Then final words to him she spake-
Now get thee from the haunts Of men,
60 woodland bird of thee l'll make,
Thy Canens thou'llt neer see again 4"
Thrice turned she to the mountains heights,
Thrice to the east, then to the west,
Thrice with her rod the Prince she smites,
Then to her gods her wish eXprest.
XIV.
Then surely works her evil charm,
P.cus amazed, forth from her sight,
Flies through the woods in wild alarm
In terror finds that his wild flight
Is that of bird, and not of man
In fear, in rage, in wild despair
Knows that he's under Circe's ban
With piercing cries he rends the airl
XIV.
Then clingng to gnarled oak,
He batters it with iron beak-
The woods resound at every stroke
Thus doth poor Picus constant seek
To dull his misery and grief
He thinks of Canens and his home.
All, will he ever get relief
Must he in such shape ever roam?
XVI.
Yes Having Circes love contemned
Relentless is her bitter hate,
SO for his lifetime he's condemned,
To this untoward cruel fate.
And to this day we frequent see
Quick restless birds of plumage bright
Fit restlessly from tree to tree,
And with fierce beaks the tough stems smite
XVII.
These are of Picus' varied race,
Plumaged purple, gold and red;
And in these colors we may trace,
How when he met the sorc'ress dread,
And her fierce evil passions fired,
In purple cloak and golden chain,
How gaily the Prince attired-
Like hues these birds do still retain
Young men when you hunting go
Be sure you don fitting dress,
Indulge not vain desire for show
Remember Picus' dire distress
JAMES WEIR INeLIs
TALLAHASSEE, FLA Jan. z, 1887.
Mad ho IT.